


Gold Tinsel and Silver Belles

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas, Storybrooke style.</p>
<p>A random collection of Christmas inspired fics</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll be Home for Christmas

Christmas morning in the Mills home was a very civilized thing. Regina drank her coffee while Henry opened his stocking and gifts. His present for her was usually something he’d made in school, and she always said that she loved it. He was never quite sure if she really did. Presents were followed by breakfast, then a quite morning playing with whatever toys he’d gotten or reading a new book. Dinner, too, was just the two of them.

Henry didn’t know what to expect, this year.

“Give us until six, okay kid?” Emma had said as she turned off the Christmas tree lights on Christmas Eve.

“Until what?” Even in the dim light Henry could see the three stockings hung from the fireplace. He’d insisted they all needed one, when they’d gone shopping for decorations weeks ago. Graham had never had one, and Emma hadn’t had very many. She didn’t like to talk about what Christmas had been like, but he knew that even his quiet Christmases with him mom had been better than hers.

“Until you drag us out of bed to see what Santa brought.” She gestured at the floor under the tree. None of the gifts had the polished perfection of the ones that had been under his tree last year. Those had looked like something from a movie set. These were perfect.

“Santa isn’t real,” he said with a shrug as he walked to his bedroom.

“The kid that convinced a whole town that they were Fairy Tale characters doesn’t believe in Santa?”

“He’s not in the book.” Henry sat on his bed to take of his shoes. Graham had joined Emma in the doorway, waiting to say goodnight. He’d been reluctant to ‘intrude’ when he’d first moved in, but lately Henry hadn’t had to ask, he just showed up. It was pretty cool. ”Besides, I don’t need Santa. I got way better gifts this year than anything he could bring.”

“You’re getting mushy on me, kid.” Emma rolled her eyes, but when she gave him a hug it was an extra tight one. 

“It’s Christmas, I’m allowed.” Henry hugged her back, and Graham too. it was going to take forever to fall asleep; he didn’t remember ever being so excited about Christmas before.

II

“Think he’s asleep yet?” Emma paced the length of the room, unable to sit any longer. The bike she’d bought still needed assembly, but she didn’t want Henry to hear them. He might not believe in Santa, but he deserved some surprises. ”Is it bad that he doesn’t believe in Santa? He’s only eleven. Don’t most eleven year olds believe?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Em. I didn’t believe in people at the age eleven, let alone some fat guy in a suit.” Graham was stretched out on the bed, wearing nothing but flannel pajama bottoms. Emma took a moment to admire the view before grousing.

“That’s not helpful. I want this to be a good Christmas. It’s the first one since, you know.” Last year she hadn’t even seen Henry on Christmas, and only for a few minutes on Christmas Eve.

“Since he’s lived with you?” Graham supplied.

“With us.” Twenty-eight years of no one, and now she had her son and boyfriend under the same roof and her parents next door. It was weird. A good weird, but still weird. ”Our family.”

“Which is why it’s going to be a good Christmas, even if the bike falls to pieces. Which it might, considering that it’s the two of us trying to build the thing.” Graham caught her as she walked past the bed for the ninety-second time, and pulled her down to sit on his lap. ”Henry has loved every moment of decorating the house, baking with you and Snow, and the play they put on at school yesterday. He even got us all to go caroling. And tomorrow there’s presents, and your parents, and I’m sure he’ll last less than an hour before begging for archery lessons on that bow you let me get him. It’s going to be a perfect day.”

“What if he wishes he was at Regina’s?” She swallowed hard, looking down at her lap.

“He knows that he could have, if that was what he wanted. And he’ll go see her tomorrow, because he’s compassionate like his mother and won’t deny Regina that. But this is where he wants to be, Emma. He wants to be with you tomorrow, just like he wants to live with you.”

“Live with us,” she corrected, knowing that no matter how much she blinked she couldn’t keep a tear from falling. She’d never had a real Christmas before, and now she had this perfect day just waiting for her tomorrow. ”This is our home, you and me and Henry.”

“Ours.” He kissed her gently, and then a little less gently.

It was a while before they got around to putting the bike together.


	2. Of Princes and Faeries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course you may have this dance,” she said was she picked up the poor little nutcracker her stepmother had accidentally broken. Nutcracker AU

She was supposed to be in bed, but the music coming from the ballroom was so pretty that Mary Margaret hide behind the Christmas tree to listen. She didn’t stay hidden for long, though. No one else was in the room, and swaying to the music soon became dancing in the flickering light of the tree’s candles.

“Of course you may have this dance,” she said was she picked up the poor little nutcracker her stepmother had accidentally broken. She touched it’s face gently before holding it in both hands and spinning around the room until she was dizzy, imaging that the wooden soldier was a real prince who had invited her to his castle.

“You’ll fall if you’re not careful, dearie, and where will you be then? Perhaps stuck with a cane like this one.” For a moment Mary Margaret’s heart raced, but it was Uncle Rumpelstiltskin and he wouldn’t care that she was breaking her curfew. He certainly wouldn’t tell mama Regina; for some reason they did’t get along.

“Did you hurt your knee when you were dancing?” Mary Margaret finished up her dance with a curtsy, and stood before her godfather with the nutcracker in one hand.

“One might consider battle to be a kind of dance, one where death is the partner one spins around with.” As he settled into a chair by the fire he held out his hand. ”Let us see if your gallant soldier is beyond repair, shall we?”

“Uncle?” Mary Margaret watched as he ran careful fingers over the mouth of the nutcracker. There was magic in his fingers; she’s seen him create the most wonderful things with gears and wood and cloth, like the dolls that had danced under the tree earlier. Like her little soldier.

“Yes, my Snow child?” He’d made a mobil for her cradle, when she was but an infant; snowflakes that twirled to a lullaby. Sometimes when it was just the two of them he still called her Snow.

“Did you ever really dance?” When she was small she had liked that he always came to the house alone, and spent his time with her more than anyone. But now that she was on the cusp of leaving the nursery, and old enough to stay up for dinner she noticed that he always left alone as well, and wondered if there had ever been a time when he’d had a hand to hold that wasn’t that of a goddaughter.

“There was a time, once, in a place far away. A magical place, where the snow feels warm as it falls. There was a girl, but she was young and beautiful, and far too good for a grumpy old monster like your godfather.”

“What was her name?” Mary Margaret had never minded his grumbles, though she knew that many of the people who visited her home whispered to her father that her godfather made them nervous.

“Her people called her the Sugarplum Fairy, but when we danced I called her Belle.”

“What are you doing out of bed, young lady?” Black was, perhaps, a strange color to wear on the eve before Christmas, but Regina was stunning in the jet colored dress that shimmered with every move.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to bring my nutcracker up to my room with me.” Mary Margaret wished she could apologize with a hug, but her step mama didn’t like her clothes to be crumpled at all.

“Go to bed now, dearie, and I’ll see if I can’t have him looking like new tomorrow.” Her godfather spurred her on with a gentle push on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Uncle.” With a quick curtsy to mama Regina the girl was out of the room. She didn’t dare stop to listen to the music.

“Strange bedtime story, Rumpel.” Regina, still in the doorway, was smirking.

“Strange indeed.” Rumpelstiltskin’s smile was more subtle, but after a minute of doing nothing more than smiling and staring at her, Regina grew uncomfortable enough to leave. For a woman who thought she was always in control, she was very easy to manipulate.

“Just a story, right, my broken little prince?” He held the nutcracker up, looking at him closely. When he poked at the chipped mouth he almost thought he saw the soldier wince.

It was probably just a trick of the light.


	3. The Christmas Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Careful, poppet, or I might change my mind about inviting you to the ball,” Jefferson smirked. “Old Leroy’s decided to throw one for Christmas Eve.” Little Women AU

He wore his best hat when he showed up at their doorstep.

“Ladies,” he intoned with a deep voice, making a grand bow. Belle ruined it all by laughing, of course, and Jefferson might have sulked if three pairs of hands hadn’t tugged him inside.

“It’s freezing out there,” Ruby scolded as she closed the door behind him. “Where is your overcoat?”

“Didn’t think I needed it, just coming from next door.” He hadn’t taken the snow into account, though. He brushed it off his vest before unwrapping her cravat and draping it over Belle’s shoulders.

“What madness is this, boy? You’re going to catch cold again.” Belle shook her head, but her eyes were sparkling. Things were always more interesting when Jefferson showed up.

“I’ve come with news of great import.”

“We were going to have some tea. Now that we have company Granny might let us have cookies instead of bread.” Emma was already off to the kitchen, to try her best to wheedle a treat out of their housekeeper.

“It’s warmer by the fire.” Astrid was still shy around their neighbor. It sometimes took her half an hour to approach him, no matter how fondly she thought of him.

“Thank you, rabbit, I think I will.” Jefferson stood with his back to the fire and his chest puffed out, waiting.

“We’re not going to ask, Jeff. You might as well spill.”

“That’s the problem with children today. No respect for their elders.” Jefferson shook his head.

“A fortnight does not an elder make, boy. And even if it did, Ruby’s older.”

“Careful, poppet, or I might change my mind about inviting you to the ball,” Jefferson smirked. “Old Leroy’s decided to throw one for Christmas Eve.”

“A ball!” Ruby quite forgot herself, and spun around the room. Emma, back from the kitchen, had no decorum or dignity. She grabbed Jefferson’s hand and made him dance with her while Astrid slipped onto the piano bench and played a tune. Belle rolled her eyes but grabbed Ruby’s hand and danced with her sister.

It was going to be an interesting Christmas.

II

“You don’t think anyone would notice if I stayed home, do you Belle?” Astrid saw on the edge of her sister’s bed, soothing the blue dress of her doll. Thirteen was, some might say, too old for a young lady to still be playing with dolls, but Belle would never take away something that brought her timid little sister comfort.

“Jefferson would be disappointed, sweetie. I don’t know if anyone else would notice, but he would.” Belle abandoned her hairpins; she’d rather wear her hair down anyway and wave her hand at convention. She knelt on the floor at her sister’s feet and look up at her. “You won’t be alone. Ruby and Emma and I will all be there.”

“So will other people.” Unlike Belle, Astrid had dressed more than an hour ago. She was able to sit and stay neat; Belle mussed her clothes with ink and smoke and didn’t dare dress for the party and sooner than necessary.

“I’ll play dragon and you’ll be my treasure, little sister. We’ll find a safe corner for you and no one will find you.” Belle held her hand out to her little mouse.

“Promise?” Astrid asked.

“You have my word.” She was careful with her promises, especially with her younger sister. Though Emma was the youngest in the family it was sometimes hard to remember that Astrid was not the baby. She was so much more delicate than the rest of them; Belle sometimes felt like holding the rest of the world at swordpoint to make it a safe place for her sister.

Half an hour later, as good as her word, Belle had procured an out of the way corner of the atrium for her two youngest sisters.

“I don’t know why I can’t dance, just because Astrid isn’t,” Emma complained.

“You know Mama said you were too young to lark about with the older boys. There’s grown men here tonight as well. Be glad you were allowed to come at all,” Belle scolded. Emma was in such a rush to grown up, while Belle would gladly trade places with her and be a girl again, without the fuss of needing a job and turning up her hair. Stupid hairpins digging into her scalp.

“You can’t dance either, Belle Charming, so there.” Emma, for all that she was aching to grow up, was still a little girl and stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“No, but I can visit the refreshment table anytime I like, and if you’re not careful I’ll forget to bring you anything.” Belle couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder, seeing a hint of the back of her dress out of the corner of her eye. The last time she’d worn it she’d sat down on top of one of her stories by accident, the ink still wet. Now she had backwards words in her own messy scrawl all over the fabric. She’d promised Ruby that she’d keep her back to the wall and not embarrass the family.

“There were eclairs, Emma. Did you see them?” Astrid was far better at soothing Emma than Belle could ever be, so she left them to their corner and wandered into the ballroom, staying close to the walls. It wasn’t easy for the girl who loved to dance to resist the lure of the music, but she tapped her foot and swayed a little and tried to make the best of it.

“May I have the pleasure, Miss Charming?” Belle didn’t notice Jefferson approach, but suddenly he was there, bowing so low that his top hat fell off. He scooped it off and tipped it in her direction before perching it precariously on his head again.

“Can’t.” Belle shook her head and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Ruined another one. Ruby would die if anyone on the dance floor saw.”

“Then we’ll simply have to avoid the dance floor, won’t we? Easy as pie.” Jefferson, for all that he liked to tease, never said a word about her habit of ruining clothing with her clumsiness. Belle was grateful. Still, she shook her head. “Ashley’s been making eyes ever since you came into the room, and Aurora looks like a princess tonight. Best be dancing with an actual prospect, my boy, and not me.”

“Ashley can’t make it through a reel without treading on my toes and Aurora’s eyes are in another direction. Your dancing is divine, even if you do try to take lead half the time.” Jefferson tugged her back into the atrium, still empty except for Emma and Astrid. “Now, shall you start or will I?”

“It’s Ruby’s fault, you know. Someone has to take the boy’s part when we practice and it’s never her.” Belle didn’t offer more than a token protest before taking his hand.

“Next time you’re practicing you should come over here. I’ll offer up myself and drag old Archie along as well, so you and Ruby can both have a partner.” He led her on such a romp around the room that Belle didn’t have the breath to protest that she didn’t want ‘old’ Archie around. There was something about him that bothered her. It might have something to do with how he looked at Ruby.

While Belle and Jefferson spun around in the atrium and Emma and Astrid clapped in time to the music, Ruby was dancing more sedately in the ballroom. She loved to dance as much as Belle did, though with less exuberance. Ruby was careful never to dance with the same person more than twice, and never for more than one song at a time, but Mr. Leroy’s party was a big one and she had enough partners for every dance. It was only when she was winded that she begged out of the Quadrille and slipped out into the garden to escape the room that was overwarm.

“Good evening, Miss Charming.” Archie, Jefferson’s tutor, rose from the low wall he’d been perched on and nodded his head in greeting.

“Good evening, Mr. Hopper. I didn’t know you were here this evening; I didn’t see you on the dance floor.” He was obviously there for the ball, though, his normal homespun vest replaced with what looked like silk, his shirt a starched white and his hair smoothed into submission in a way that somehow did not suit him the way his usual tousled curls did.

“I’m afraid I’ve been cursed with two left feet, Miss Charming. I’m rather a danger for whomever I’m partnered with.” At his wry smile Ruby tilted her head to the side and took a moment to observe him in a way she hadn’t, in the weeks since they’d first met. He was Jefferson’s tutor, and somehow only just in the background of things usually. he was always kind, though, and he had lent her that book of poetry she’d mentioned in passing.

“My feet feel as if they’ve already been through a battle. Do you mind if I sit without you for a few minutes? The moon is so pretty and it’s not stuffy out here.” She looked up at the orb, an almost perfect circle in the sky. “And please, call me Ruby. We’re almost neighbors, aren’t we?”

“I’d be honored, Miss Ruby.” He waited until she was seated before joining her. “We’ll be proper neighbors after the first of the year. Mr. Leroy’s offered me a room here, and as it would be more convenient I’ve accepted.”

“Not more convenient for Jefferson, I’d wager. Between Mr. Leroy and yourself it will be twice as hard to get away with mischief.” Ruby spoke absently as she took off her glove. When she remembered herself she covered her mouth, her cheeks turning a bright red. “Forgive me, Mr. Hopper, that was rude. Jefferson is your student and your employer’s ward.”

“He’s very high spirited, Miss Ruby, which is both a blessing and a trial. I must confess that I had hoped spending so much time with the gentler sex might temper his enthusiasm a little. Your sister...”

“Can hardly be called gentle I’m afraid, Mr. Hopper. Belle is...”

“Ruby!” Belle was, at that moment, racing through the ballroom and out onto the terrace. Most of her hairpins were gone and her hair was falling down around her shoulders. Her gloves were gone as well, and she was panting in a way that was entirely unladylike. 

“Ruby we have to go. Mrs. Boyd and Ashley were being horrid and now Astrid is crying. I don’t think anything short of mama will calm her down and Merlin’s bones I could just punch Mrs. Boyd in the nose.” Her hand was clenched in a fist as I she might carry out her threat.

“Belle, language.” It was bad enough to use slang at home, but in front of a grown man it really was inexcusable.

“Astrid is crying and Emma’s even sharing her teacakes. She’s sharing food, Ruby, that’s how bad it is.” Belle didn’t even seem to be aware of Archie Hopper, which was perhaps for the best considering how she felt about him.

“May I see you safely home, Miss Ruby?” Archie asked.

“It’s only next door, and a stranger would make Astrid feel worse. Thank you, Mr. Hopper.” Good manners were well enough ingrained that she curtsied slightly before following her sister back into the house.

“Miss Charming you forgot your glove.” Archie held it up, but it was too late. His fingers lingered over the soft material that had, minutes ago, encased her pale hand. He would return it to her on the morrow, he told himself as he tucked it into the pocket of his evening coat.

II

“Isn’t there anything else I can do?” Jefferson paced in the front parlor. He’d insisted on walking the Charming sisters home, though only a dozen yards separated the front doors. Astrid had been whisked upstairs to have her eyes dried by mama, and Emma sent to get ready for bed, but Ruby and Belle remained in the parlor.

“You should go back to the party, Jefferson. People will notice you’re gone.” Ruby stood beside the Christmas tree that was starting to turn brown, a needle snapping in her hand when she touched it. Soon they’d have to take down the decorations. Perhaps, if they were lucky, the next time they decorated the war would be over and papa would be home.

“They can go hang, for all I care.” For emphasis Jefferson threw his top hat onto the sofa. “Gossip mongering prissy little so and sos. Do we know what they said to upset Astrid?”

“Don’t know and don’t care.” It was a lie, of course. Belle had made out enough of Astrid’s whispers between sobs to know that people were speculating about herself and Jefferson. It was ridiculous; Jeff was her best friend outside of her sisters, her almost brother. And she wasn’t ever getting married. “If you’re not going back to the party you could entertain us. The piano, my lad. A little music might cheer us all.”

“At your service.” It wasn’t often that Jefferson played, but it wasn’t for lack of talent. The first notes of ‘Joy to the World’ were sharp and clear, and in his usual manner he threw in a few extra notes to show off. By the time he’d played through the verse once Belle and Ruby were ready to join in singing. As they sang of ‘sounding joy’ Emma snuck down the stairs and tiptoed in to stand at Ruby’s side. By the last verse mama and Astrid had come down as well, the girl’s face puffy and tear stained, but calmer than it had been. The small family sang together of the ‘wonders of His love,’ each one of them thinking of their dear papa, and praying that he too knew how much he was loved. Jefferson thought of the family that he had, finally, found for himself.

Belle slipped her hand into her younger sister’s. Her other hand rested on Jefferson’s shoulder as the last notes softened and he began to play ‘Silent Night.’ She wouldn’t let the gossips win out; Jefferson was her best friend and that wasn’t ever going to change. It was not perfect, but it was Christmas and it was family. That was what mattered.


	4. Playing Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gremma, stockings

Emma had rolled her eyes when her mother had given her the stocking with her name on it. Santa was for kids, and while she would make sure that Henry’s stocking was stuffed there was no reason the hang up her own.

Henry had other ideas. There was no fireplace in the apartment that they shared directly across the hall from her parents, but her creative son had used a blank wall, cardboard and paint to make them something vaguely fireplace shaped, and hung up both of their stockings. She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed to find it empty on Christmas morning. Maybe she’d have to buy some candy to put in it.

Buying things to fill Henry’s stocking had been fun, and it was difficult to wait until almost one am on Christmas to tiptoe down the stairs with the small treasures. She was halfway done when the apartment’s front door opened. Emma silently cursed the fact that she hadn’t thrown the deadbolt, and her gun was locked up in her room. At least Henry’s fake fireplace had a real poker leaning against it; she could do enough damage with that.

"I come in peace." Graham held up his hands when he noted the poker she had raised in the air. In one hand he carried a paper bag.

"What the hell?" Graham was a frequent enough visitor, sometimes even an overnight one, but he’d never come into her apartment without asking. Certainly never in the middle of the night.

"Henry was worried about your stocking. You’re supposed to be surprised in the morning. I didn’t think you’d be awake this late." He offered her a lopsided grin. Emma didn’t know if she should laugh or if she wanted to cry.

"You’re not the only one playing Santa tonight."

"Nah, not Santa. Henry picked most of this out. I’m just a really tall elf."

"Good, so there’s no Mrs. Claus to be jealous when I do this." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. No matter what he said he was her Santa, the first one she’d ever believed in.


End file.
